


The Royale

by bellaaa_a



Category: Burlesque (2010), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Burlesque, F/M, Oneshot, Smut, dracomalfoy - Freeform, dramione - Freeform, hermionegranger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaaa_a/pseuds/bellaaa_a
Summary: What happens when Hermione Granger discovers Burlesque?Or better yet, what happens when Draco Malfoy discovers Burlesque?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	The Royale

Six months. That’s how long it had been since the end of the war. When Harry had defeated Voldemort, a name that no one no longer feared to speak, Hermione Granger felt a rush of emotions. Relief, happiness, frustration, anger, sadness, grief, but most importantly, she felt love. Love for those that she and many others had lost. Love for those that had survived. Love for her parents that she had obliviated and sent to Australia. Love for Dumbledore for believing in her and her friends. Love for Harry Potter, her best friend who had lost so much while fighting the biggest fight anyone could ever imagine. And love for Ronald Weasley, who had _finally_ plucked up the courage to kiss her and admit his feelings for her in the midst of the darkest day in the last decade.

Hermione’s heart had soared when his lips pressed against hers, and she had never felt more alive than she did in that moment. But the feeling didn’t last.

The first few weeks were hard on all of them. Funerals were held and loved ones were buried. Fred’s was the hardest funeral to attend, and Hermione swore that she had noticed Draco Malfoy standing under some trees watching the proceedings that day, but when she blinked, he was gone and she thought it was her imagination playing tricks on her. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time. The remaining Death Eaters were caught and thrown into a holding cell to await their trials at The Wizengamot, but Ron was still distant. But Hermione had hope that one day soon things would get better… they had to, she was sure of it.

Another month passed and the Death Eaters’ trials had begun, and things were only getting worse for the two of them. Ron and Hermione had just moved into an apartment together which should’ve been a joyous time, but instead Hermione was feeling more and more like a burden every day. Ron would lock himself in their study for hours on end until he saw the bottom of at least two bottles of cheap firewhiskey.

Hermione’s heart was breaking at the sight of her first love circling the drain, and she tried her hardest to be there for him, but it was never enough. She bought fancy lingerie that she definitely couldn’t afford to try and spice things up in the bedroom, and perhaps evoke some kind of happier emotion from her other half, but it was no use. Ron barely even acknowledged her as she laid in their bed, and simply slipped underneath the covers and turned off his bedside lamp.

Hermione was running out of options, and so she owled Harry and arranged for the three of them to get together for lunch, thinking that surely that would cheer Ron up. But she was wrong.

“Come on Ron! We’re going to be late!” Hermione rushed around the apartment as she checked to make sure that all of her muggle appliances were turned off, and that nothing was laying around that should be put away. She brushed the creases out of their orange couch and straightened the decorative cushions, turned each bottle of alcohol that was on display so that their labels were facing front on, and grabbed her wand just as Ron trudged down the stairs, a solemn look on his face.

“Ready?” She asked him with a cheery smile, and could only just make out the mumble of a _yes_ before she apparated them to the cafe where they were to meet Harry.

She had barely seen her best friend since the end of the war as he had been so busy training for the Auror’s at The Ministry, and she was so looking forward to hearing all about what he and Ginny had been up to since she saw them last.

They approached the cafe host and gave her name, and they were then ushered towards a table beside a beautiful fountain and that provided them shade from the bright sun that carried no warmth whatsoever. As Ron and Hermione sat down beside each other, their waiter levitated a bottle of cool water over to their table and filled each of their glasses before setting out three menus. Hermione turned to Ron, about to ask him what he fancied to eat, when a voice she knew like the back of her hand rang out from behind her.

“Mione! Ron!” Hermione stood and fell into the open arms of Harry who squeezed her in a tight embrace before letting her go and giving Ron a more masculine version of a hug before taking his seat opposite the two.

“How’ve you been mate?” Hermione nearly jumped at the clear sound of Ron’s voice from beside her, it was something so unusual and foreign to her.

“Oh, I’ve been fantastic! Auror training is going really well! And Ginny is having the time of her life with her Quidditch!” Hermione could only smile fondly as Harry told them all about what he had been up to as of late, and for a moment it was as if everything was as it should have been… but only for a moment.

“But enough about me! What about you two?” Harry looked to Ron. “Mione tells me you’ve been struggling recently Ron, what’s going on?”

Ron’s head snapped towards Hermione, and his eyes held nothing but angry storms as he looked at his girlfriend with more hatred and anger than Hermione could ever have thought was possible, and for once she was at a loss for words, and it seemed the same could be said for Harry as he stared in disbelief at the exchange occurring in front of him.

“She _did,_ did she?” Ron’s voice raised an octave or two and he threw his hands in the air. “What _exactly_ did you tell him, Hermione?

“I-” Hermione’s voice broke, and Ron took that opportunity to continue.

“Did you tell him that ever since the war ended you have been constantly at me to pay you attention? Did you tell him that you bought some ridiculous outfit to try and get me to fuck you when I clearly don’t want to? Did you tell him all of that _Hermione_?” He said her name with such venom that had Hermione shrinking down into her seat, not avoiding anyone’s eyes.

“ _Ron_!” She heard Harry say.

“No Harry! I’ve had enough of her constantly looking at me like I’m not good enough for her, when really _she’s_ the one that’s not good enough for _me!_ ” Hermione’s lip quivered and Ron grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him with tears in her eyes. “You hear that, Hermione? _You aren’t good enough for me_. And quit the fucking crying, it’s pathetic!”

Deep down, Hermione knew that this would happen. When things between her and Ron didn’t get better after a couple of months, she knew that they never would, but that didn’t stop her from having hope. But sitting there, listening to the words leaving Ron’s lips was shattering every, last sliver of hope she had. He was tearing her apart and making her feel worthless.

As Hermione took a breath and re-focused on what was happening in front of her, she saw Harry waving his finger at Ron, and Ron yelling back at him. She looked around at the other patrons in the cafe and noticed that they were all staring, and so she quickly interrupted the heated exchange between the two boys.

“Harry, stop. Please both of you, just _stop_.” 

“Mione-”

She raised her left hand and placed it on the side of his face, and memorised every detail about him that she could before turning to Ron.

“I can’t believe you said those things to me Ronald-” Ron’s face was bright red and he began to open his mouth to undoubtedly say something else to shatter Hermione’s heart further, but she stopped him by quickly holding up her hand. “Don’t say anything else. It’s very clear that you’re not happy with me, and so I’ll make the decision that is obviously too difficult for you to make on your own.” She took a deep breath and the person she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with. “We’re over Ronald. I’ll clear my things out of the apartment now.”

Hermione stood up and quickly hugged Harry. “I’m sorry, this was not how I envisioned our catch up to go.” She said before turning her back on them and walking away without a second glance.

~*~

As soon as Hermione had left the cafe, she apparated straight to her- to _Ron’s_ apartment and quickly began packing up her belongings.

She produced an extension charm on her suitcase and filled it with feminine products, linen, clothing and her muggle inventions before closing the latch and taking a final look around the apartment. She knew that if she were to forget anything, she could dismiss the idea of ever seeing it again.

Up until this point, Hermione had kept her composure and not let her guard down, but as she looked at the pictures of memories that she and Ron had shared, and the furniture she had spent hours picking out and rearranging, a dam burst within her and she slid down the ivory wall beside the door, dropping her head onto her knees as she brought them up to her chest, and she cried.

Her shoulders shook while she sobbed, and all she could think was ‘ _Why me?_ ’. She had gone through hell and back growing up as she tried to convince the Wizarding World that she belonged there despite the prejudiced beliefs regarding her blood and heritage. She had fought alongside her two best friends for seven years to protect themselves and their loved ones. She obliviated all memories of her existence from her parents' minds and sent them away to Australia in order to keep them safe. She had spent nine months on the run hiding from Voldemort and his Death Eaters while her friends endured pain and suffering in her absence. She had been tortured at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and still had the scar on her left forearm to prove it. She watched her professors, peers and friends die in front of her eyes. 

She had been through so much in her 19 years, and now she had lost one of the only people she had left. 

After crying until there was nothing left inside of her, Hermione shakingly stood up and gripped the handle of her suitcase tightly before dropping her key on the kitchen counter and closing the door behind her, listening to the lock click for the last time.

She walked out onto the street and as she mindlessly wandered for a minute or two, she suddenly realised that she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t go to any of her friends for comfort, because they were also friends with Ronald, and she didn’t want to put them in an uncomfortable situation where they had to choose a side. Ronald may be okay with doing that, but she wasn’t.

If only she had a place that she could go to escape, a place that no one else would care to look for her. If only her parents were here to-

Her parents. 

Hermione’s family home had been demolished in the war, making it clear that obliviating her parents’ memories was indeed the correct decision. However, they had a small apartment in the heart of muggle London that they had lived in before giving birth to her, and she remembered them saying that they had couldn’t bring themselves to sell it, and so Hermione wondered if it was still there, and still under ownership of Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

The longer Hermione thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. The root of all of her problems had started in the Wizarding World, and over the years she had lost touch with her muggle roots. If she simply disappeared and reinserted herself in the muggle world, maybe that would solve all, or at least most, of her problems. She wouldn’t have to worry about her friends choosing sides between herself and Ronald, and she most definitely wouldn’t have to see her now ex-boyfriend, and that was most appealing to her. 

She could think of it as an extended vacation with an unknown end date. She could reinvent herself amongst the muggles, and return to the Wizarding World with a clear head after the dust had settled.

Yes, that was _exactly_ what she would do. But first, she had to know whether she still had access to the apartment, and so with a flick of her wand, she apparated to an alley behind the apartment block on Park Street, ensuring that she wasn’t seen appearing out of thin air.

She breathed in the familiar scent of London as she approached the front door of the building and pushed through the extravagant double doors and walked up to the reception desk.

“Good evening,” Hermione greeted the desk clerk who looked up at her through his spectacles. They reminded her of the ones McGonagall wore, and the thought made her smile briefly. “I was hoping that you might have a spare key for my apartment? It’s in my parent’s name, but they have moved to Australia, and have given me permission to stay in their apartment.”

Hermione was well aware that the desk clerk didn’t believe her, and so she quickly continued. “They gave me their key but I misplaced it on the way here. I can provide identification!” She reached inside of her bag and wrapped her hand around her wand out of habit, but stopped herself before pulling it out in front of the short, chubby man in front of her and making a huge mistake. She dropped the wand and instead located her photo identification that she provided to the man whose name she noticed was Geoffrey, and he examined the plastic card before typing away at his computer.

“Miss Hermione Jean Granger. I take it your parents are Mr and Mrs Wilkins?” Geoffrey asked, and Hermione quickly nodded her head.

“Yes, that’s them! Monica and Wendell Wilkins!” 

Geoffrey appraised her for a moment before excusing himself and entering a locked room, emerging a moment later with a small, silver key with a green plastic head labelled ‘ _Apt. No. 607’_ and he produced a form that Hermione quickly signed before he handed the key to her.

“Level 6 and apartment number 607.” Hermione grabbed her suitcase and thanked him profusely before rushing inside the elevator and hitting the button for _Level 6_. 

The elevator shot upwards, leaving Hermione only a little lightheaded, nothing compared to the elevator at The Ministry, and excited once the doors slid open to her level. As she scanned the doors looking for Apartment 607, she thought about all the possible reasons as to why her parents had never sold this apartment.

They bought the apartment nearly 25 years ago, and so the value of property back then was considerably lower than it is now. The apartment was located on one of the wealthiest streets in muggle London, and Hermione had no doubt in her mind that her parents would have received quite the price for the unit. But in many ways she was thankful that they didn’t ever sell it, because if they had, she wouldn’t have had anywhere to go after leaving Ronald.

Once she found _607_ , she placed the key inside the lock and gave it a turn, and pushed the door open to reveal the most beautiful apartment she had ever seen. She stepped into a stunning entry with a marble bar to her left where she placed the key. Directly in front of her was what she assumed to be the main area of the apartment and took in the sight of an open plan living room with a gorgeous kitchen to the left with marble bench tops, and a huge window overlooking the city, and Hermione took in the breathtaking view that was Hyde Park. 

She dropped her suitcase and inspected the quaint furnishings and decor, and wasn’t at all surprised by any of it. Every item that she laid her eyes upon reminded her of her mother, and she pictured Monica fussing over the placement of the decorative cushions and throw rug that was carefully draped over the arm of the pale blue couch. 

Hermione dragged her feet into the bedroom, and once again was left speechless at the huge, comfy looking bed and adjoined bathroom. It appeared that the apartment had been kept in pristine condition, and Hermione concluded that there must be cleaners that have maintained it throughout the years. 

She laid back into the soft mattress of the bed, and her eyes fluttered as she sunk down into it. It felt like she was floating on a cloud, and she knew right then and there that she had made the right decision coming here. This bed was so much more comfortable than the one she had shared with Ronald back in the Wizarding World.

As Hermione laid there, she watched the sun set over the horizon through the window of the bedroom, and reality soon slowly began to set in. She had made it to London, she had found more than suitable accommodation, and now it was time for the next step.

She had to find herself a job.

~*~

Hermione spent the next few days walking the streets of London, searching for a casual job, at least until she had some money behind her, and then she could look for something a little bit more permanent if that’s what she decided. 

She had been in and out of at least fifty or more stores in the past 72 hours, and she was no closer to finding a stable source of income. Yes, she had the apartment that she didn’t have to pay for, but there was groceries that needed to be bought, basic household expenses that she would be billed for eventually, and she needed to prepare for that.

It was very unlike Hermione to not have a set plan before she jumped into making any decisions, but deep down she had known for a while that her relationship with Ronald was not going to last, but she still put her all into it, knowing that her efforts would most likely be for nothing.

The sun had well and truly set by the time she had made the decision to head back to the apartment. She would get up bright and early tomorrow morning to go back out into the city and continue searching for a job. 

Hermione weaved her way through the flocks of people that congregated in the streets of Strand as she made her way to the nearest taxi rank, and lifted her nose in the air and breathed in the scent of a delicious variety of cuisines, and her stomach grumbled. She had only had a few slices of toast for breakfast and had picked up a sandwich ‘to-go’ while walking the streets of London, and so she decided to stop at a fast food restaurant just to help take the edge off her growing hunger. 

Just as she reached to grasp the handle, she heard an alluring composition of music streaming from a small, brightly lit doorway to her left. All thoughts of a meal pushed to the back of her mind, Hermione let her feet move of their accord as she made her way down a dimly lit stairwell before stepping out into what appeared to be a very lavish muggle club. 

There were round tables scattered throughout the entire floor, with five or six chairs to each. From what Hermione could see, the majority of those chairs were filled with excited patrons holding tall glasses of what she assumed to be alcohol in their hands. There was a long bar at the opposite side of the club with five bar staff pouring drinks and placing them on the black bench tops, where one of the beautiful, young waitresses would collect them and serve them to the paying customer. 

Hermione felt herself being drawn further and further into the club, until she was stopped by a strange looking gentleman with small, round glasses who demanded that she pay the entry fee of £10, and not wanting to leave just yet, she dug her hand into her purse and presented the doorman with the flimsy note. Once the money was in his hand and the transaction complete, he plastered a smile on his face and directed her to find a seat and to “enjoy the show”.

Hermione made her way to the bar just as the lights went out, and her attention was pulled to the stage at the front of the club where a group of six women were positioned. Half of them wore tight, black shorts that barely covered their backsides paired with a lace corset and black top hat. The other half were dressed in a sparkling, white one-piece with a kind of sailor cap, Hermione noticed. They all wore matching thigh-high black and white striped stockings and black pump heels. 

Hermione was mesmerised as she watched them move slowly in time with the music, and a seventh woman entered the stage. She was tall and had black, wild hair that was styled similar to how hers had been in her earlier years of Hogwarts. She wore a dazzling one-piece that surely couldn’t have been comfortable, with black fishnet stockings and an equally dazzling coat.

She stood in the centre of the six girls who had slowly made their way to the floor of the stage, and then the tall woman began to sing.

_“Show a little more_

_Show a little less_

_Add a little smoke_

_Welcome to Burlesque”_

Hermione was completely in awe of the women that danced on that stage. They moved so perfectly together and every step was in time to the music. Not to mention the beautifully unique voice of the taller woman that kept in the centre of the dancers at all times.

_“You can dream of Coco_

_Do it at your risk_

_The triplets grant you mercy_

_But not your every wish”_

“Fantastic, aren’t they?” Hermione spun around at the close proximity of a voice from behind her and came face to face with one of the men behind the bar. He had dark eyeliner around his eyes and a black vest and top hat. Hermione flashed him a quick, friendly smile before turning her attention back to the stage where at least six more women in black and red had joined.

_“Show a little more_

_Show a little less_

_Add a little smoke_

_Welcome to Burlesque!”_

The lights went out, and Hermione could see the girls’ silhouettes as they rushed off the stage presumably to change costumes for their next performance.

Hermione didn’t care what she would have to do, or _who_ she would have to do, but one thing she knew for certain. She was going to dance on that stage, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

She turned quickly back to the gentleman at the bar who was still watching her with a smile on his face.

“What kind of dancing is that?” Hermione asked.

“That, my dear, is Burlesque. A lot of people think of it as similar to strip dancing, but it’s completely different.” The man poured her a fruity drink while he explained. “Yes, it is provocative, and yes, occasionally there’ll be a striptease or two, but Burlesque is considered to be quite a classy dance.”

The music started again and Hermione’s head turned back to the stage just as the girls started their next routine, which was just as mesmerising and brilliant as the one she had just witnessed.

“So, what does a girl have to do to get from here,” she motioned to where she was standing “to there?” She pointed to the stage where the girls were swaying their hips sensually to the beat in their short, golden dresses.

“See those stairs?” Hermione nodded as she looked in the direction his index finger was pointing, “Head up them and ask for Tess. She’s your guy.” 

“Thank you! Very much!” She hurried across the room, nearly tripping over her feet in her excitement. She climbed each step with an equal amount of enthusiasm and found herself amongst a stunning group of young women. Some of them were sitting in front of mirrors touching up their flawless makeup, others were gossiping in the corner of the room, and a few girls flitted past her with a magnificent outfit in their hands.

“Ladies! That was fantastic!” The tall woman from before addressed the girls before heading to her office, with Hermione hot on her heels.

“Excuse me? Tess?” She knocked on the doors and the woman turned, appraising her front head to toe.

“Depends on who’s asking.” The woman cocked an eyebrow and sat in the chair behind her desk.

“My name’s Hermione Wilkins. I’m sorry to just barge in like this, but I just witnessed your show, and it was so beautiful-”Hermione didn’t know what made her change her surname, maybe it was the thought of a fresh start, but whatever it was, she was glad she did.

“Thank you, darling.” Tess interrupted her, and Hermione quickly cleared her throat before continuing.

“I was wondering if you had room for another dancer?” She spoke so quickly that the words jumbled into one, and for a moment Hermione thought that Tess hadn’t understood her, Merlin knows she barely even knew what she had said. But then Tess sighed deeply before standing back up and making her way over to where Hermione stood, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“As much as I love your enthusiasm, and by God could some of those girls out there learn a thing or two from you in that regard,” she used her index finger to tilt Hermione’s head upwards so that she was looking directly into Tess’ eyes “but I don’t have any room for another dancer right now.”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped, and she tried to hide her disappointment, but Tess spoke again, igniting a tiny flicker of hope back into the young witch.

“However, we can always use a waitress, and you are more than welcome to learn the routines _just_ in case one of the girls happens to fall ill one day.”

A smile lit up Hermione’s face and she quickly embraced Tess in a hug before pulling back. “Yes! Thank you, Tess! I won’t disappoint you, I swear!”

“I believe you, Hermione. Now, go and see Jack behind the bar. I’m sure you have already met him, as there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the one that sent you to me.” Tess dismissed Hermione and she quickly made her way back down the stairs and towards the barman she had spoken to earlier.

  
 _“Learn the routines”_ Tess had said, and if there was anything that Hermione was good at, it was learning and studying. And so that night, she went back to her appointment and sat at the laptop that her parents had left here and began typing.


End file.
